


An Interesting Development

by BrevitySoulWit93



Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Canon Era, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Pining Merlin (Merlin), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrevitySoulWit93/pseuds/BrevitySoulWit93
Summary: To avoid the Prince Arthur's wrath, Merlin has to sneak into his chambers before first light. What he witnesses will leave him with more questions than answers. (PWP, basically...)
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 159





	An Interesting Development

**Author's Note:**

> This is just shameless, shameless porn. I clearly have a thing for bottom!Arthur masturbating because this baby wrote itself at 2am. It is also un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. Set some time around the end of season 3/start of season 4. 
> 
> I do not own Merlin (if I did, this is how it would go). All right belong to Shine/BBC.

It was truly amazing, Merlin thought, how an actual grown man could be quite so petty over the smallest of things. The night before, as he was preparing for bed, Arthur had thrown a goblet at his head because he couldn’t find his favourite comb - the comb that Merlin had in fact broken earlier that same day and subsequently taken away to fix. Revealing this fact to the prince would only have provoked his ire further, so Merlin had simply dodged the question along with the missile and run for his life, vowing to come back in the morning.

This is how he found himself outside the door to Arthur’s chambers, comb in hand and using magic to open the door soundlessly. The sun had barely started to rise, and the castle was peaceful and quiet.

The dawn light peeped through the slight gap in the curtains as Merlin tiptoed across the room. Arthur snuffled softly in his sleep, only the soft blonde hair at the back of his head visible underneath the decadent blanket he covered himself with, face buried into the downy white pillow below him. With uncharacteristic restraint, Merlin did not stop for a stolen glance - his favourite Arthur was sleeping Arthur, because he was quiet, well behaved and did not hurl any abuse in his direction. Instead, he padded around to the little cabinet at the far side of the bed, settling the offending comb underneath other random detritus that he could pass off later in the morning as Arthur once again refusing to use his eyes.

His task completed, Merlin did now take a moment to pause, his breath naturally falling into sync with that of the sleeping prince - as always, they were in tune. He allowed the little jolt of his stomach; that small, almost exultant thrill he so often pressed away. Merlin and Arthur were bound by prophecy, and also by a reluctant friendship and even - as Merlin had realised fairly recently, as he watched the man wage an internal war between his head and his heart over an arranged marriage he did not want - bound by love.

Arthur snuffled once more, turning his head towards the window and breaking into Merlin’s reverie by beginning to stretch languidly, pushing the covers down to reveal his broad, tanned back. Cursing quietly under his breath, Merlin dashed behind the heavy curtain. The last thing he needed was to be caught in the prince’s chambers as he slept. Again. There were only so many excuses he could create on the spot.

Through the crack in the curtains Merlin watched as Arthur exhaled softly, reaching up to smooth his sleep-mussed blonde hair, clearly beginning to awaken. His hips, still covered by the scarlet blanket, shifted slightly, and Arthur’s full lips parted in what could only be called a gasp. He repeated the action twice more, eliciting the same response each time. Merlin’s heart stuttered. He really should not be here.

All common sense abandoned him when Arthur ground himself down more insistently, the merest hint of a needy little groan audible over the rustle of sheets. Merlin tried to look away - he really did - but as Arthur’s eyes blinked blearily open he could not quite tear his focus from the way the prince rolled onto his back and kicked the covers to the foot of the plush bed, revealing sleeping trousers tented with arousal.

Merlin closed his eyes then, blood pounding in his ears and - by the gods - his groin. This was something he had never dared to admit imagining. He had washed the princes sheets often enough to know that he was a young man like any other, taking his pleasure where he could when unable to sleep or in the early morning hours or when especially tense. He had always endeavoured to not look too closely at the stains, or to ponder what sticky substance he had accidentally just stuck his finger in. It made perfect sense to him that Arthur seemed to find calmness in watching him do every mundane chore under the sun, except changing the bedclothes. Whenever that needed doing, he made a swift exit, never summoning Merlin until much later in the day.

The rustle of cloth told him Arthur had removed his sleeping trousers. He should not look. He would not look.

Of course, he looked.

Arthur was lying flat on his back with his left arm behind his head, his eyes fluttering closed once again as the long fingers of his right hand brushed along the length of his rock hard cock. Merlin bit the insides of his cheeks as he watched, taking in every inch of the princes body. He had seen Arthur naked countless times as his manservant, but never like this. Of course he would be beautiful.

His manhood was only a little shorter than Merlin’s own, but quite a deal thicker, with a satisfyingly pink tip; Merlin fleetingly wondered what sound Arthur would make if he licked it. With what little mental capacity he had left, he berated himself. This was entirely inappropriate - Arthur was not only his friend, but his prince - his future king. He was, however, also his destiny, which made him feel a little less guilty about palming himself through his trousers and turning his attention to the way Arthur licked his own palm in the most filthy display Merlin had ever witnessed before wrapping it around his erection.

The prince began to slide his spit-slicked hand up and down almost teasingly. After a few strokes he swept his thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the precum that formed there and sweeping it down his length with a tiny jerk of the hips. He continued on in this manner for several minutes, his head beginning to push back into the pillows to reveal his incredible neck. Merlin noticed how, after every other stroke, he added a tiny twist of his wrist which seemed to make his legs tremble.

Arthur’s other hand made its way from under his head and moved instead to his mouth, where fingers rested upon lips from a moment before he slid two of them inside. Merlin’s mind officially melted when he continued on to bend his knees and plant his feet firmly on the mattress, slipping those now dripping fingers between his legs.

Like all of Merlin’s sexual fantasies come to life, the prince circled the rim of his hole with one finger, worrying his pouty bottom lip with his teeth as he bit back a moan. Without much preamble he slid the digit inside himself right up to the knuckle in a fashion which made it more than apparent he had done this before. It took Merlin every fibre of restraint he had and the natural reflex of a silencing spell to hold back the deep, throaty groan that almost threatened to expose him. Arthur’s moan, however, was not silenced and the sound rumbled from deep in his chest as he began to move his finger in slow thrusts, hips beginning to buck up to meet his hand.

The fist around his cock continued its slow progress as Arthur let his legs fall open wider still. No longer was he the guarded prince he presented to the public; instead he was vulnerable and downright wanton, with a flush spilling like fine red wine over his chest as he actually added a second finger to join the first. His knees were spread, wide and inviting, and Merlin felt his mouth go completely dry. Arthur began to speed the movements of his hands now, moans spilling from his lips coupled with muttered profanities that made Merlin’s head swim.

He watched in fascination as Arthur added a third and final finger, hissing through his teeth at the stretch, the muscles of his strong thighs rippling. Merlin had always admired Arthur’s legs, even before he had recognised his feelings for what they were. They were incredibly long, covered in fine fair hair, both slim and yet muscular, with his really rather shapely arse at the top. Arthur’s toes began to curl into the sheets as he began to move with real urgency, hips lifting off the bed as he hit a sweet spot inside himself over and over again. It was the sheer intimacy of the sight of the curled toes that finished Merlin off.

Without even untying his breeches, Merlin hurriedly shoved his way inside and took himself in hand. With just five short pulls he was coming, spilling his release silently all over his own fingers as he watched Arthur cry out loudly with every thrust of his left hand and stroke of his right. His knees buckled and it was only sheer force of will that stopped him tumbling out through the curtains to his certain doom.

The prince finally came apart with his head tossed back in silent ecstasy, the tendons of his neck straining against the icy fire that was evidently coursing through his veins. From this vantage point Merlin could not see the words he mouthed, so instead turned his attention to the long ropes of come that decorated his stomach and chest in a climax that seemed to last an eternity. His hands did not still until his whole body began to convulse with oversensitivity, his heavy breathing catching in his throat as the finals jolts of pleasure-pain ripped through him.

Merlin shrunk back, heart hammering against his ribs as Arthur’s eyes finally opened to stare at the canopy above his head. With a wince he withdrew his fingers from himself while the other hand came to rest on his stomach. The prince groaned in audible disgust as he felt his own come there, absently wiping it on the sheet. He raised his head slightly and looked down at the wreck that was his naked body, wrinkling his nose at the mess he had created.

“Sorry, Merlin,” he muttered, grabbing the corner of the top sheet and using it to wipe himself off. Merlin felt the back of his neck prickle: even the thought of himself being in Arthur’s mind so soon after he had taken himself in hand made every nerve in his body tingle. He pushed the warmth in his stomach aside, thankful of the silencing spell he had automatically performed and hyper aware of the uncomfortable, sticky feeling inside his trousers - he wasn’t sure whether he was more ashamed or aroused by the whole situation.

Suitably sated, Arthur shuffled back into his sleep trousers, pulled the cover back up and flopped bonelessly onto his stomach. Within a few moments his breathing had slowed and he was asleep once again, the climbing sunlight casting a golden glow upon his golden hair.

The idea of Arthur pleasuring himself was not a new one, but it turned out the prince had appetites Merlin had not suspected. He wondered idly what he had been thinking of as he took himself apart. Gwen? One of the many visiting princesses who all but threw themselves at his feet? Or perhaps, Merlin wondered as he crept from the chambers with more stealth than he knew he possessed… Perhaps the ministrations of his non-dominant hand meant Arthur had something else on his mind entirely. An interesting development indeed.


End file.
